Right Here Where You Need Me
by Hogwartsowls
Summary: The War has left scars on the whole wizarding community. Everyone has the battle wounds but no one has as many emotional ones as Harry Potter. When Harry comes down stairs to the kitchen in the Burrow after a night of remembering the ones he lost, Ron is there to dry his tears and make everything better again. Harry/Ron One Shot


**Author's Note: So I was looking around for some Harry/Ron slash fics and couldn't really find one that caught me. I really love the idea of Harry being broken right after the War and Ron being there to help him through his fears. I came across this one - Mothers and Tears by Darro Moltar - and I thought that this was exactly what I hade been looking for. So I used that story as inspiration for this.**

**Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter goes to J.K. Rowling and anyone associated with the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just a Muggle wishing I was a witch.**

**Right Here Where You Need Me**

It was dark, the shades drawn, the lights off and everyone in their beds, safely away from any danger. Ron Weasley was standing next to the window of the kitchen, the calm light of the moon reflecting off his hair, making it seem lighter than it actually was. A mug of steaming tea was grasped in his left hand, his right leaning against the counter. Without a sound, the 18 year old wizard lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip. He lowered his hand again and listened to the quiet of the night. There was a slight breeze, not uncommon for May, and the rustling of leaves out the open window was the only thing keeping the house from being totally silent.

Just as Ron lifted the mug to his lips for the second time, there was a creak on the stairs behind him, a quiet sniff and the shuffling of feet. He turned just in time to see a short raven-haired boy step of the bottom step and round the corner into the kitchen. The person stopped in a patch of moonlight and Ron studied him for a moment. His clothes were wrinkled from sleeping, or at least trying to, judging by the shadows under his bloodshot green eyes. The figure moved only to wipe away a stray tear from their left eye, their glasses lifting up and down as the hand moved under them.

Ron set his tea on the counter behind him and leaned back, the edge of the counter digging into the small of his back. He crossed his long legs in front of him at the ankle. Never once did his eyes leave the other boy's.

"I didn't realise there was anyone down here," Harry said softly. "I'll just go back to bed I guess."

"No, don't," Ron called quietly to him. "I just made a cuppa, come and have some with me."

Slowly, Harry moved around the table and took a seat in one of the chairs near Ron. Ron fixed a mug of tea and handed it to Harry before sitting down beside him at the table.

"No cream, two sugars, just how you like it," Ron said as he took a sip of his own tea which contained the exact opposite of that of his friend. Harry smiled weakly and took a sip. When he set it down, he wrapped his hands around it, staring into it intently. Slow tears made their way down his thin face. He had long since given up trying to not cry in front of Ron.

Ron looked sideways at his best friend. He moved his cup out of the way and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What's it this time?" He asked quietly and as gently as he could.

"Mum and Dad," Harry said croakily. "Sirius and Lupin and Dumbledore too."

Ron nodded and squeezed Harry's shoulder comfortingly. He knew that there weren't any words he could say to make Harry feel any better. He couldn't tell Harry that it wasn't his fault that they had died, because Harry already knew that, even if he chose to ignore it most days. Ron also couldn't say that everything would be okay, because it obviously wasn't. And he defiantly couldn't say that they were in a better place because Harry would get upset all over again for not choosing to stay with them. All Ron could do was rub soothing circles into Harry's tense shoulder and stay quiet. Because sometimes, the quiet in the presence of a friend was all Harry really needed. It was a reassurance that he wasn't completely alone.

A few moments later, Harry picked up his tea and took a small sip. Taking this as his cue to stop, Ron removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and took a sip of his own tea. It wasn't very hot anymore, so he cast a silent warming charm on the liquid in his mug. Curls of steam rose into the air.

"I saw them you know," Harry said quietly. His hands were still wrapped around his tea but his eyes flicked up to meet Ron's. Ron was slightly startled but he set his mug back down on the table with a small clack.

"I saw them in the forest right before I… died. Mum and Dad and Lupin and Sirius were there and they talked with me. It was the closest thing I had to actually seeing them again." Tears slipped out of Harry's clouded green eyes. "Did you know that?"

"I didn't. You don't talk much about what happened out there."

"Dumbledore left the Resurrection Stone inside the snitch. 'I open at the close' meant that it would open when I accepted my death." There were tears welding up in Ron's eyes now too. They were there but Ron wasn't about to let them fall. That would make Harry feel even worse. And besides, Ron was supposed to be the strong one; he needed to be Harry's rock and his shoulder to cry on.

"But I lost the Stone! I dropped it in the forest and now it's gone! I'll never get to see them again!" Harry was sobbing now, his thin shoulders shaking, his chest heaving. Raspy breaths were taken through a tear-clogged throat. His head was sitting on his arms which were folded on the top of the table. Ron knew that if his mother had been there, she would have pulled Harry into a hug and soothed him. But seeing as she wasn't here, Ron really didn't know how he was supposed to make Harry feel any better.

Feeling brave, Ron stood up silently and whisked their tea over to the sink before standing behind Harry's chair and rubbing Harry's back in slow circles. Harry's back stiffened slightly then relaxed as Ron's fingers found the knots in the muscles beneath the skin, working them loose. Sobs still echoed though out the house from Harry's fragile self. Neither boy heard the feet on the stairs nor saw the figure observing them from the landing above the kitchen.

Harry stood up and turned to face Ron. His eyes were ringed with red, his cheeks flushed and shiny with tears. His breath hitched as a sob escaped his lips. Ron gazed sadly into Harry's eyes and reached forward, grasping the other boy's small hands in his own. Harry's eyes flickered from Ron's face to their joined hands and then back to Ron's face. With another escaped sob, Harry flung himself forward into Ron's arms.

Ron staggered backwards slightly upon impact, but his arms came up to wrap around the smaller boy's shaking body. Harry buried his face into Ron's neck, breathing in his comforting sent. Tears flowed liberally from his eyes and wet the fabric of Ron's light blue cotton shirt. Fists grabbed at Ron's back and tangled themselves into the cloth. Ron's head lowered and he rested his cheek on top of Harry's wild black hair. Long, thin fingers tracked shapes into Harry's back calmly.

"They're gone, Ron," Harry whispered.

"I know, Harry. I know they're gone but I'm not going anywhere. I'm always going to be right here where you need me."

"Forever?" Harry asked.

"If that's how long you need me, then that's how long I'll stay," Ron whispered back. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry whimpered and pressed his face into Ron's neck even harder. Ron's hands stopped moving and wrapped around Harry's waist, holding him as close to his body as he could. He heard a sigh and stroked Harry's hair soothingly. Tears left blotches on Ron's shirt and sobs still wracked Harry's thin body. Ron shuffled towards the sofa, Harry still clinging to him. When they got into the living room, Ron sat back gently on the worn cushions, Harry sliding down with him. The smaller boy curled into the red-head's side and was rewarded with strong arms folding him into a warm chest.

They lay like that for a long time, listening to each other breathing. Harry had shifted so he was half sitting in Ron's lap and a blanket had been draped over them. Sobs had turned to shaky breaths then to nothing. Soon breaths lengthened and Ron looked down to see green eyes closed. Without thinking about anything, Ron kissed Harry's cheek and closed his eyes too, letting sleep take him to where ever Harry dwelled.

In the morning, Molly Weasley found her boys curled up together on the sofa – tear streaks on both calm faces, fingers wound together, breaths even – and smiled.


End file.
